Fixing What Was Broken
by Gypsy Feet
Summary: When Jack returns to Port Royal, things take a sad twist, and sometimes hurting doesn't help build character, but really breaks it. Read & review please.


**Fixing What Was Broken**

**By Emmy  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything because I am poor and some fictional ****mouse is rich and the world is unfair.  
A/N: A sad fic! Shock! Horror! I managed to stay serious for a period of time exeding five seconds! In fact, I nearly made myself cry writing this. please read, I want to know if you think they're in character, I also want to know if I should continue or leave it there.**

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Jack weaved his way through Port Royal. He wasn't keeping to the shadows, trying to be inconspicuous or disguised. He didn't frankly care if he was spotted by the guard, and he was reasonably sure that the guard didn't care either. But as well as the normal sneaking, cautious attitude missing, his swaggering, over-confident stride was apparently misplaced. In fact, Jack hardly looked the man the legends made him out to be at that day and age, he looked scruffier and more out of place then usual. He hadn't shaved in a while, and it was beginning to show, he hadn't even glanced at himself in a mirror, hadn't seen his reflection once, he really did not care. He didn't need to speak for someone to know that something was wrong. And indeed it was.

Jack Sparrow, king of the Caribbean waters, most feared pirate captain of the Spanish Main, was scared beyond belief. He was sweating, more from fear then the sticky heat, his hands were clammy and his posture was unnaturally straight, for him at least. His eyes darted about with apprehension, his stomach, he was quite sure, had either turned to a block of ice or a clump of deep sea seaweed. Beneath the grime of tar, oil and anything else he had managed to get on his face, he was as pale as a porcelain doll.

When his eyes finally alighted on his destination, the Turner's house, he gave a quick smile, more or less to himself, and made his way to the door. When he reached it, he gave two, loud, sharp knocks and waited. His keen ears picked up the sound of bare feet padding across the marble floor. The incredibly expensive, unnecessary marble floor. There was jiggling as someone fiddled with the various locks and someone muttered a profanity as they tried unsuccessfully to jerk the door open. Eventually all the catches were undone and the door opened. The sight that met him answered all the questions that had bubbled in his mind, threatening to shove him over the brink of sanity that he so often teetered over the edge of.

Elizabeth stood there, pale and drawn, with a bottle of brandy clasped in one of her delicate hands. They stood still drinking in the sight of each other, both pathetic and exhausted.

"I'm sorry Liz," Jack murmured as he continued to stare into her hollow eyes.

"Jack," she acknowledged, only then comprehending the fact that the pirate captain was standing on her doorstep, "come inside if you must."

"I'm sorry Liz," Jack repeated, watching carefully for her reaction.

"It's over now. They were buried yesterday," it sent thrills of shock up and down both their spines as they realized the finality of her words.

_Over now._

_Buried._

_Gone._

"I didn't make it in time?" Jack asked in shock. He closed his eyes, he wouldn't, couldn't, believe this was happening.

Elizabeth shook her head the negative. Jack once again closed his eyes as he swallowed slowly, willing the tears away. When he reopened them, he noticed the unhealthy amount of alcohol Elizabeth must have consumed; her large, large bottle nearly empty and she swayed slightly, her world no doubt swimming. He carefully placed his hand around the neck of the bottle and gently pulled it from her grasp. She merely stared at her now empty hand in incomprehension until she caught sight of it in his hand. A line appeared on her forehead as she tried to focus on it.

"That's mine," she stated as she made a clumsy attempt at snatching it back. Jack remained still and continued to stare at her face.

"It's unhealthy to drink that much," he replied, not making a move to drink any himself.

"I know," she whispered simply, meeting his gaze, letting her words sink in. And sink in they did, something struck a chord in the pirate's heart, without a second thought he stepped up to her and slipped his arms around her in a comforting hug.

Though at first stiff at the uncustomary show of affection from the captain, Elizabeth slowly relaxed into it and rested her chin on his shoulder, closing her eyes whilst fighting the tears again, which had been an ongoing battle through the past few weeks.

"Please don't just waste yer life, Liz, don't do anything stupid that you'll regret later," he muttered, she could feel his chin move up and down as he formed the words, but couldn't comprehend them for a few seconds. At least with her eyes closed the world didn't tip so much.

"I just want to feel numb," she choked, "besides, the worst that could happen is me dying. That doesn't seem so bad anymore. Death, it just means that I'll move onto something else, and we'll be together again."

"That isn't the Lizzy I know talking, that's the alcohol. It's not what they would want, darling; you know that, I know that, so it's settled. You don't do anything stupid, and everyone will be happy, savvy?" Jack mumbled, he couldn't talk properly for a few reasons: her hair was basically in his mouth, she was hugging him so tight that he could hardly breathe, and a tightness in his throat that had nothing to do with their embrace was giving him hell.

"It isn't fair! Why did they have to go? Why couldn't I go instead? Why am I left alone, after getting everything I ever wanted, I lost it all. It isn't right! I haven't done anything wrong! I was always doing what was right, never complaining, trying to make my family proud. Why does God spite me so?" the sudden release of her pain shocking both of them, as much as the burning tears that accompanied it.

"Some things happen that no one can help, Liz. If it makes you feel any better I lost Anamaria to it as well," the choked sob that erupted from her informed him that no, it didn't make her feel better.

Without another word said she pulled away from the embrace and pulled him towards the back door. He followed wordlessly. His posture still straight and his swagger still missing. She led him to two mounds of freshly upturned soil, with a view of the sea.

"I thought this would be the best place from them," she explained, her voice wavering slightly.

"I'm sure that they'll be thankful for the view, always the considerate one aren't you?" he replied, in a poor attempt at lightening the mood.

"They deserved the best," she replied, distress woven in amongst other feelings that made up her voice.

Jack nodded and slid his arms around her again, this time from behind; he stared at the stone crosses at the head of each mound, one a deal larger then the other. He cursed the sickness that had spread throughout the Caribbean. He cursed every deity he could think of. He hated nearly everything then; he didn't understand why something divine and immortal, that looked after the earth, and created the sea and her winds, would break something so pure.

Elizabeth began to cough harshly and he stared at her in shock.

"You're sick," he noted. His eyes were wide and his mouth slightly ajar at this turn of events, he just hoped above all that she was strong enough.

"Who cares?" was her heartbreaking reply.

With one last glance at the graves of his friend, Will Turner, and his namesake, Jack Turner, he shepherded the last remaining Turner to her house. Spirit and will were broken, but Jack still clung to a hope that someone would fix them for her, if she couldn't do it herself. And with that hope locked firmly away in his heart, he let a single tear drop from his eye, two Turners were worth crying for, one Turner was worth staying strong for.

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**A/N: Once again I implore you to REview for this and tell me what you think, if i should continue and/or if they are in character.  
Keep on writing on**

**Emmy**


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